


Trials 1:14

by WitchyBee



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Champions of the Just, Character Study, Dwarves Don't Like Dreams, Friendship, Gen, I Don't Even Know, In Your Heart Shall Burn, Nightmares, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:45:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3445958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyBee/pseuds/WitchyBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Cole tries to find where he belongs among the Inquisition, Marni Cadash struggles to shake the dreams of a demon that wears her face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Feeling of Home

**Author's Note:**

> "Though all before me is shadow,  
> Yet shall the Maker be my guide.  
> I shall not be left to wander the drifting roads of the Beyond.  
> For there is no darkness in the Maker's Light  
> And nothing that He has wrought shall be lost."  
> \- Canticle of Trials 1:14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Envy demons are equal parts arrogance and cowardice. They isolate their victims to study them at length, seeking to become them. Once the demon is satisfied it knows its chosen subject, it takes on their form, leaving the poor soul to rot. Envy is never satisfied, however. The demon's bottomless cravings to be more—more powerful, more skilled, more inspired—cause it to seek fresh prey, leaving a trail of stolen identities behind.
> 
> This transition is when Envy is weakest, for it is vulnerable as it moves from body to body, slavishly copying the habits of the old identity until it finds another mortal to mimic. This is why I am writing this down. The man cowering before me wanted so badly to know what a demon thinks, wants, feels. He would document everything. Everything. He resists, a prisoner in his own home, but I already know this. I hunger for knowledge as he does. As I will.
> 
> —Scroll found on the body of 'Scholar Esmar Treviento,' by the templars who hunted him down."  
> (Codex entry: Envy demon)

Cole watched.

If he'd known Envy would try to trap the dwarf inside her own head, he would have warned her. But it's too late by the time he hears it. _Seething, consumed with want. Dreaming, wanting, needing to wear the Herald of Andraste's face when next meeting the Elder One._

Cole helped.

When the Inquisition leaves Theirinfal, he goes with them. He follows the dwarf with red hair, careful to always stay hidden. People might be afraid of him otherwise, or worse, they might send him away. Cole likes the dwarf; he can hear the old song faintly within her, like templars. It's comforting. He doesn’t want to make her forget. He wants to help.

They call her the Herald of Andraste. Cole doesn’t know why, but he knows it means hope. The dwarf doesn’t seem to like it much. _If I’m the herald of anything, it’s bad luck._ She wishes everyone would Just call her Marni.

She has nightmares about the demon and what happened in the Seeker fortress. Envy haunts her, hurting her still.

She wakes in a cold sweat, heart racing, wanting to scream but her voice is gone. _No, I’ve still got my voice._ Marni feels her face, blinking in the dark to drive out bad memories, fear slowly fading. _Deep breaths. I’m still me._ Then she looks at her hand, at the mark that makes her more—pulls her up—and curses. _Stupid fucking Elder One. Stupid Envy. Dwarves don’t sodding dream!_

Cole wants so badly to step out from the shadows and help her. Marni is afraid. He could tell her it's all right now, that Envy is dead and can’t hurt her anymore. But Cole worries that seeing him might only make it worse since he was part of the nightmare.

"Who’s there?" Marni asks warily. Cole jumps, backing away. Clearly she needs him more than he’d thought. Marni gets up from her bedroll and peers out of her tent. He concentrates harder on not being seen, wraps the darkness tighter around himself. After a while, she gives up the search. 

—————————————

The next morning on the road, Marni seeks out the elven mage—Cole likes him because he's quiet, sad but calm; he wouldn’t be afraid—and asks him about her new ability to dream.

"Solas," she begins without preamble, "I had a dream last night."

"That is fascinating. I take it this is the first time you have experienced such a thing?"

"Yeah, and it was bloody terrifying," Marni snaps, irritable from a lack of sleep the night before. "So thanks for making it sound so great. It’s the sodding mark, isn’t it?"

"Perhaps. It may somehow connect you to the Fade," Solas considers. "It is truly remarkable that its magic has allowed you to dream at all."

"Forced, more like," she mutters unhappily. "Don’t like the Fade. It feels...wrong. I don't know. Shouldn’t be there. I may not give a shit about Paragons and all that rot, but I’m still a dwarf."

"Ah." He nods, seeming to understand. "I know of a potion that will help you sleep without dreaming, and should you eventually wish to gain control over your dreams—"

"Whoa! Hey now, one thing at a time, Fadewalker."

"As you wish," he says.

"Right. And um...thanks." Her fear eases slightly. 

After Marni walks away, the elven mage turns and his eyes meet Cole’s for a moment. He smiles slightly, like they share a secret.

—————————————

Haven. Fear and despair and hope shining brighter than the sun. Marni smiles more, happy to be home. The dwarf knows it is strange to think of this place as home so soon, especially when she misses her carta family, but she still feels it. These people are becoming her new family. _Salroka_ , Marni often thinks when she looks at them. Cole doesn’t know that word, but it has the shape of friend.

When Cole finally reveals himself, he hears the ring of swords drawn from their sheaths and panics. They don’t understand—

"Wait!" Marni yells.

"I came with you to help," Cole explains. "I would have told you before, but you were busy."

"You were following behind us in secret? All the way to Haven?" Marni sounds almost impressed, head tilted slightly to see Cole's face, obscured by the brim of his hat.

"Yes," he says. "It’s easy to make people forget you when they don’t expect you to be there."

One woman demands they call the guards. She sounds like a templar, but different, and she doesn’t trust him. _Demon_. The other woman with red hair—Cole remembers her but she doesn’t remember him—wants to know why he’d come all this way. She is more understanding. _Strange boy. Mage? Possessed? Something else?_

"You help people," Cole says, looking at the Herald. "You made them safe when they would have died. I want to do that. I can help."

"Well...you did save my life back in Theirinfal," the dwarf considers, stroking her chin. "If it wasn’t for you, Envy would be wearing my face right now." She tries not to shudder at the thought. "So yeah, welcome to the family."

"Thank you. I won’t be in the way," Cole promises. "Tiny, no trouble. No notice taken unless you want them to."

"Herald, you’re not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?" the templar asks. No, not a templar anymore. The chains are breaking. He has nightmares, too. Maybe the elven mage’s potion can help him.

"Why not?" Marni crosses her arms defiantly. "He’s part of the Inquisition now. You trust me not to steal stuff and Solas not to become an abomination. Far as I can tell, Cole’s no different."

"Where did he go?" Cassandra’s eyes are wide.

Marni grins. “It’s a good trick. You get used to it.”

Maybe this place could feel like home for Cole, too. Family. He hopes so. And that’s all the Inquisition is—hope. Faith and sadness and everyone hoping so hard, working to make the world better. Safer. Cole wants to help.


	2. Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Herald of Andraste protests as the templars leave the city. Small. Unimportant. Beneath a Lord Seeker's notice, but for instructions from the Elder One.
> 
> Growing disbelief. The Herald, leading nobles, shining men and women whose power chokes a country. The Inquisition, rising larger than the templars. Unbearable envy. What is a Lord Seeker, compared to what the Herald will become?"  
> \- Codex Entry: Envy's Dogma

Haven is filled with hurts to be healed. People come from everywhere—refugees, pilgrims, priests—often with nothing but hope. A lot of them have lost loved ones, either to the war or the chaos it creates. Cole can help here. Many refugees arrive injured; Cole brings herbs for the healers and eases the pain of those fatally wounded or ill.

But there are smaller hurts, too. A grieving soldier wishes she could smell her wife’s scent one last time—armor polish and honeyed black tea. A child misses a favorite toy they didn’t have time to take before fleeing their home. The Left Hand whose faith is a wilted rose. Sometimes The Iron Bull wakes up back in Seheron. They don’t all trust Cole, but that doesn’t matter. He just wants to help.

Cole likes the tavern. People. Warm and welcoming and bright. Less loud than the infirmary or the chantry. There is pain sometimes, but it’s dulled by drinking—another way to forget. High up in the rafters, a barn owl roosts, hunting rats. Cole feels sorry for the rats, but he knows the owl would starve without them. It would hurt the rats, too. Sometimes he brings them cheese.

"Hey, Cole!"

He flinches, still a little unaccustomed to being seen and remembered so easily. But Marni Cadash smiles. Her clothes are damp after a wearying day at the Storm Coast, calloused fingers ache from nocking arrows in rapid succession.

"The Stone, still there, reaching up for the blood that walks. The mark makes you different. Dreams. Not a mage, but something more," he intones.

"I'd rather not think about it. Settling in all right?" the Herald asks. She is kind. The dwarf doesn’t always understand, not like the elven mage, but she’s made a new space in her mind for him and tries. She doesn’t see a spirit or a demon—just Cole. "Made any friends yet?"

"I don’t know," he replies slowly. "Solas talks to me about the Fade, curious and calm. He likes spirits. The Iron Bull is cautious, careful, but the fear fades and he sees me. The me I want to be. Varric sees a person; he holds me here and teaches me how to cheat at cards."

Marni grins. “That’s good. I’m sure our Varric’s a good influence. No one’s given you any trouble then?”

"No. Some of them are afraid, but they forget." Cole realizes there was something he needs to tell her. "Thank you for letting me stay. There are so many people I can help here."

"Y’know, if anybody else said that, I wouldn’t believe ‘em. But you really do care, huh? Not a selfish bone in your body. Most folks I’ve met would only help other people to get something for themselves."

” _Lyrium exchanged for gold, but slick blood spills when the deal goes bad. A blade sinks through exposed skin, the sound sickening. Lantos takes the dagger away. Steadies the shaking with a flask of whiskey. ‘She’s just a kid. Too sodding young for this. I’m sorry, salroka._ ’”

Marni shudders at the memory and the words, the color draining from her freckled cheeks. “He’s only half a year older than me,” she murmurs eventually. “You in my head again or what?”

"Not anymore. Not like Envy was. It’s just you inside you now." Cole’s eyes grow wide. He hadn’t meant to make her afraid. Her fear mixes with his until it makes a tight knot in his chest. "I’m sorry. I-I’m not like that; I’m different," he adds. "Please don’t send me away."

"Hey, I know. It’s all right," the dwarf assures him. "Relax. I’m not gonna send you away. You help people and you're damn good with those daggers. I guess I’m a bit jumpy about you poking ‘round in my head, is all."

"Envy can’t hurt you anymore," Cole says.

"Yeah," Marni sighs. But knowing isn’t enough. She dreams now, nightmares more often than not; the mark on her hand tethers her to the Fade. Dwarves aren’t meant to dream. The Fade frightens Marni. Foreign. Doesn't feel right. It frightens Cole, too.

"If the demon does come back, I will help. Like last time."

"Promise?" she asks, holding out her pinkie. _Two little girls—an elf with curly hair and a freckled dwarf—sit cross-legged in the grass behind an orphanage, sharing stolen sweets. They hook their pinkies together and swear to always be best friends._

"I promise."


	3. Miracle

Cole is there when they seal the Breach. Demons scream in pain, overwhelmed and forced into a wrong world not shaped by will alone. A vortex of magic spiraling out but the templars smother it. Marni steps forward, raw power unraveling from her hand like a coiled spring as she turns the key. And then it's done.

The other side no longer pulls at him. Not so strongly, anyway.

Everyone in Haven is happier now, relieved just to be alive. They dance and drink and...are people. Cole sits apart from the celebration, looking up at the scarred night sky. It's quiet, but something else is still loud. He doesn't know what it is.

Marni joins him as soon as she can slip away unnoticed. "Not enjoying the party?" she asks.

"There are echoes, rushing back across us. Ripples in a pond from a stone, but backward," Cole tells her, frowning. "It's louder now with the hole in the sky closed, but I-I still can't hear it clearly. Something is coming. So much anger..."

A chantry bell starts to ring. Cullen yells for his soldiers to take up arms. A force marches toward Haven. People are going to die. The Herald and commander quickly devise a plan. Cole follows them to the gate, wishing he could do more to help.

\----------------------------------------

"Fiona didn't want to fight," Cole says to no one in particular. "She was protecting her people. It wasn't her choice."

The village is destroyed by dragon fire and buried beneath rock. They manage to evacuate just in time, but so many people are dead. Roderick is dying. Marni stood alone against the Elder One; now she might be dead, too. Without her the world would have no hope.

They trudge through the snow for hours, higher up into the Frostback mountains. Cassandra decides it's safe to make camp when Haven is barely visible in the distance. Cole does what he can to help Mother Giselle tend to the wounded. Blackwall collects any wood he can find, and Dorian lights fires with magic to drive back the cold. The snowstorm is relentless.

Yet the most difficult part comes when there are no distractions. Nothing more to be done. All that's left is to warm themselves by the fire and wait for...something. A sign, maybe.

"You southerners do love your mountains and snow, don't you?" Dorian complains, shivering with a blanket around his shoulders. No mana left. Been running on adrenaline since he fled Redcliffe, last reserves fading fast.

"You should sleep, Lord Pavus," Josephine says in concern.

"Please, Ambassador, call me Dorian. Lord Pavus makes me sound like a magister, or my father. I don't know which is worse."

Josephine can't sleep either, afraid of nightmares. She still hears the screaming as Haven burnt. Good men and women cut down by Venatori. Proud to give their lives, willing to die for a righteous cause, but it's such a waste. _Such a waste..._

Pain everywhere. It's too loud. Too much. Faith falling like rocks in an avalanche, hope lies dead down in that valley along with everyone they couldn't save. They all hurt so much and he can't help them. Cole feels himself slipping, sliding into despair. No. Stop. The Herald will live. She has to.

"You all right there, kid?" Varric. Solid as stone. Always worried, but voice calming. "You've been quieter than usual."

"Is she going to die?" Cole asks in a whisper.

"Who, kid?"

"Marni. She's lost. Freezing, frightened, fragile. Can't see through all this sodding snow. Blinding, bitter, biting wind. Tired deep down in her bones, So easy to fall and let the cold claim her."

_A baby cries, cold and scared, wrapped in a gray blanket. Abandoned on a chantry doorstep. 'Say a prayer for her. Too tiny to live through the night, poor little thing,' the sisters sigh. No, wait--she's a dwarf._

"She'll be fine," Varric assures him. Faith. He believes, but he doesn't know.

"What if she ain't, though?" Sera demands. Varric shoots her a warning glare like a crossbow bolt. "What? Creepy's just sayin' what we're all thinkin'. It does that. Look, I like Marni; she's fun and adorable and a damn good Herald. But you lot sent her to face this Coryphetits alone, right, and then dropped a friggin' ton of rocks on her!"

"And your point is what, exactly?" The Iron Bull grumbles.

"Point is, what if she don't survive that? What happens to the Inquisition, yeah? We just gonna sit here waitin' forever until we freeze to death? We need a bloody miracle."

That's when they hear shouts from the edge of camp, where Cullen and Cassandra are standing watch.

"It's her!"

"Thank the Maker!"

"Well, Buttercup," Varric says with a relieved grin, "Looks like there's your miracle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know where this is even going.


End file.
